Wednesday, March 27, 2013

Several months ago Michelle and I had the brilliant revelation that a sitcom should be made based on our lives because we are hilarious and America deserves to be treated our wit and humor that for thirty minutes weekly.

One night we sat down to write the pilot. After we worked for approximately five hours we decided that actually writing a sitcom was A. LOT. OF. WORK. Since then the only progress we've made on the sitcom is giving events in our life sitcom titles.

"Laura and Michelle Get a New Refrigerator"

"Laura and Michelle Have an Ill-fated Hair Experiment with Hot Rollers"

"Laura and Michelle Finally Take Their Christmas Decorations Down in March."

Well, this weekend we decided to visit the Titanic that's on exhibit at a museum in the city. And we named the adventure "Laura and Michelle Take Philadelphia."

On Sunday morning we checked the train schedules only to find out that the line that we would typically take was closed for maintenance. That meant that we had to drive to a train station in a neighboring suburb, and since I'm more familiar with the area than Michelle, I agreed to handle the train part of the journey if she would take charge of actual city navigation.

When we arrived at the train station, I pulled my car into a perfectly convenient spot, but unfortunately it was only pick up/drop off parking.

I drove to the next lot.

Permit parking only.

So I did the only thing left to do in the situation, which was park next to the dumpster in the back of the McDonald's parking lot and cross my fingers that parking enforcement would assume the car belonged to either a McDonald's employee or someone enjoying a daylong fast food feast and not an individual disobeying the MCDONALD'S PARKING ONLY signs.

We parked and ran across the street to the train platform, all the while pondering WHERE EXACTLY THE OCCASIONAL REGIONAL RAIL COMMUTER IS SUPPOSED TO PARK THESE DAYS.

And then we climbed up on the platform and looked behind it and to what did our wondering eyes did appear but a GIGANTIC, EMPTY, FREE OF CHARGE PARKING LOT.

Evidently that's where the occasional regional rail commuter is supposed to park these days.

Well. Now we know.

We made it to the city, and once we hopped off the train we wandered around looking for someplace to eat lunch. And wandered and wandered and wandered some more until Michelle finally said "I JUST KNEW WE SHOULD HAVE PACKED A LUNCH" and I started quoting an article I read one time about "food deserts" in big cities.

Finally, AND I DO MEAN FINALLY, we caught sight of a promising sign that said "The Mix." Michelle had worked in an office the area a few years ago and remembered The Mix as a store where you could buy customized bags of fancy mixed nuts, but we decided to give it a try anyway and when we realized it was actually a restaurant I almost kissed the menu.

We looked over the menus and I talked a big game about not being able to decide between the grilled pear salad and the chopped salad, but when the waitress came over I let my true colors shine and ordered the chicken the chicken bacon ranch sandwich with french fries, please and thank you.

It was delicious.

From there we strolled down to the museum. The line to buy tickets was nearly OUT THE DOOR but thanks to the wonders of modern technology and our quick thinking, we bought tickets on our iPhones and picked them up at will call.

It worked out perfectly really, because Michelle has been wanting to experience a real will call window ever since she ordered concert tickets a few weeks ago, selected the will call option, AND THEN CALLED.

ON HER TELEPHONE.

We spent several hours wandering around the museum and the Titanic exhibit. It was very interesting and I learned a lot that I didn't know but I don't have much to say about it here because it's not really a humorous topic and let's be honest, humor is my wheelhouse.

We caught the 6:16 train home and by the time we got to our stop I was so nervous about my car being towed from McDonald's that I was shaking.

I'm happy to report Old Blue was right where I left her.

So when our sitcom comes out, don't expect the episode "Laura and Michelle Take on the Parking Authority."

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

I am supposed to be at work at 8:00 every morning. In reality, that loosely translates to me careening into the parking lot on two wheels at approximately 7:59 a.m., Monday through Friday. Part of the reason why I am JUST ABOUT ON TIME each each day is that I iron my outfit in the morning, but fail to build "ironing time" into my morning schedule.

Every night at approximately 9:30 I say to myself, "Self, you should really take ten minutes and iron a pair of pants before you go to sleep."

And then an internal debate takes place which inevitably ends with me deciding that I'd rather get in bed and read for an hour, and leave the ironing for the morning.

For the record, that has never been the right decision.

But things changed last night.

I decided to iron a pair of pants before bed. It was a monumental decision and one that paid off this morning. I had time to spare and was even able to dry my hair completely instead of just pinning the damp sections into a clip and crossing my fingers that if I put the heat on full blast in the car it will dry by the time I get to work. I also chose coordinating accessories to go with the cute blouse I was wearing AND made myself breakfast.

In short, I had it TOTALLY TOGETHER this morning.

So please imagine the disappointment I felt as I was sitting at my desk this afternoon and looked down to see this big M sticker on my shirt.

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Yesterday was long and rainy and dreary, so I stopped at Ikea on
my way home from work because nothing can make a gray day brighter like some
unnecessary but competitively priced throw pillows.

Unfortunately, in an unprecedented turn of events, I didn’t
see anything worth buying at Ikea.And
so I decided to head home, except Ikea is in the midst of a remodel and I
couldn’t find the exit.

COULD. NOT.
FIND. IT.

I wandered around the home textiles department for a sweet
forever and even texted Michelle to tell her that I was lost in Ikea.Apparently I chose to visit
during the stage in the remodeling process when the EXIT signs have not yet
been moved to accurately reflect the updated exits.

So that was fun.

I may or may not have made a pit stop at the cafe to order myself a plate of Swedish meatballs because WHEN IN ROME. Or WHEN IN A SWEDISH RETAIL STORE, as the case may be.

I finally, and I do mean finally, made it to the parking lot. I decided to take the back roads to my apartment, which
have less far traffic but involve several four way stops.

Listen. I think it’s time that we as Americans to start
behaving at four way stops the way God and civil engineers intended.There are most certainly times when it is appropriate to let
a car pull out in front of you or wave them along. A four way stop sign is not one of those times.

Letting someone go out of turn at a four way stop throws off
the mojo of the entire intersection.I’m
talking to you, lady in the blue Subaru station wagon who waved on FIVE CARS
while we waited at a stop sign.

I came home, made myself a bowl of turkey chili and a glass
of wine, and watched Ellen Degeneres and Bill Cosby commencement speeches on
youtube because the excitement around here NEVER ENDS.

While one video was loading I clicked over to the local
news website to catch up on all the goings on, and saw this.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Matt and I went to buy a board game, but he
wanted to take a look at seeds and bulbs and other assorted garden accessories and I had
to grab some milk, so we agreed to separate at first and then reconvene in the
board game department.

Well, guess who showed up to the board game aisle with not
only a half a gallon of milk, but also a container of broccoli cheddar soup, gift
wrap, and a bag of miniature bell peppers.

I’m telling you, that Matt is always going crazy in Target.

Oh, I kid.

It was me.

I could justify all of my purchases except for the miniature
bell peppers.I had no real need for
them but they were just so adorable I couldn’t resist.

After we picked out a game and paid, we were on our
way.Until we got into the car and Matt
realized his blood sugar was low (he has diabetes), so we made a pit stop at
the grocery store on the way home.I
waited in the car while he ran in with two dollars and returned a few minutes
later with a candy bar and a Spicy Nines lottery ticket.

Wow.

He is unpredictable.

He is also in the same tax bracket he was in before the
Spicy Nines purchase, because unfortunately it was not a winner.

I try to keep this blog profanity free because HI MOM AND
DAD, but the game we bought at Target was called Smart Ass.It’s a funny game for a group, and what made
it even funnier was that in an effort to censor himself, Matt called it Smart
Beep.

It’s a trivia game, but there is a board with a few spots with
special directions.

Dumb ass, move back three spaces.

Hard ass, you get to answer a bonus question.

It lost some of the effect when Matt would say “HAHA YOU LANDED ON DUMB BEEP, MOVE BACK THREE.”

On Saturday I woke up at the crack of 11:30, and after lunch I drove to Matt’s so he could
replace the front brakes on my car.

Here’s a word to the wise.You should probably not wait until after your boyfriend has removed your
entire front wheel AND brake system to ask him “So, how many times have you
changed brakes before?”

Because he might tell you that this is the first time he’s ever
done it, and that may or may not cause you to go into a panic, and you may or
may not have to go inside and lay on the couch and watch HGTV until it’s all
over.

Matt drove fast and slow and with cruise control and without and
on highways and side streets and stopped suddenly and went up hills and around
corners and after he tested every possible driving scenario, he turned to me and
said, “Well, your car is working just fine.There is nothing wrong with your gas pedal.”

What he probably wasn’t expecting was for me to say, “OH NO.
WELL THEN WHAT DO YOU THINK IS WRONG WITH MY FOOT?”

Listen.God bless
Matt.It must be exhausting to date me.

That’s when he drove us to the river and we got OUT OF THE
CAR and walked and walked along the water and enjoyed the springtime weather,
the warmest and sunniest we’ve had in months.

We found the dam and then Matt chased some geese and also communicated with them
in a very realistic geese honk that he evidently perfected during hunting
season.

If I closed my eyes, I couldn’t
tell which honks were Matt’s and which were the actual geese.

Ladies, he’s all mine.

Says the girl who does a mean dial tone imitation.

It eventually started to get chilly, so we got back in the car and went
for a ride, which is one of my very favorite things to do.We rode all around in one of the most
affluent suburbs and looked at all the fancy homes and picked up flyers for any
that were for sale.

If only Matt had a winning Spicy Nines ticket, this little
shack could be his.

And now, it's time for a brand new week.

I am THRILLED that we now have an extra hour of daylight. I plan to take lots of evening walks.

Hopefully they make my foot stronger. I'd like this gas pedal/tired foot situation will be resolved once and for all.

Thursday, March 7, 2013

I read about the benefits of apple cider vinegar online the
other day, and figured I’d give it a whirl because who can say no to something
that promises such REMARKABLE RESULTS?

NOT. I.

My hair does feel very smooth and clean, but unfortunately I
smell like I went for a swim in a pickle jar.Here’s hoping that subsides by tomorrow morning, because last week I showed up to work smelling like a margarita, and if I show up tomorrow smelling
like a hoagie sandwich with excessive condiments, people might start exercising
their constitutional right to complain.

I’m sad to say that my vinegar hair washing experience was
one of the most exciting things that happened this week.I spent the majority of the day yesterday making
trips to the biggest window in the office to monitor the arrival of what the
meteorologists promised would be A MAJOR WINTER WEATHER EVENT.

But when I left work at 5:30?

DRY AS A BONE.

In fact, the BIRDS WERE CHIRPING.I turned on my windshield wipers as I drove home
in a show of solidarity with the ever-optimistic weather people and an attempt
to will the sky to snow, but it was all in vain.

The night was completely precipitation-free, which just goes
to show you that no one can create panic for a few million people quite like
Philadelphia meteorologists who cry snowstorm.

On Tuesday I spent the day in court, as per usual, but the
judge took me and another paralegal out to lunch which was an unexpected bonus.I rode shotgun on the way to the restaurant and
made sure I clicked my seat belt VERY LOUDLY AND SECURELY when we got into the
car because I’d hate to commit a legal infraction while in the car with a
member of the judiciary.

We didn’t talk about cases during lunch because EX PARTE
COMMUNICATION ALERT, and I tried my hardest to keep my use of legal puns to a
minimum.That was very difficult for me
and I literally had to bite my tongue on more than one occasion so I wouldn’t
say YOU BE THE JUDGE OF THAT when we were discussing things like the best Penn
State quarterbacks and whether bacon or sausage tastes better on a breakfast
sandwich.

I did have a pretty funny/witty one liner on the ride back
to the courthouse and told the judge he could feel free to use it when he took
the bench to make a decision in a big case, just as long as I got some credit
via a shout out on the record, so we’ll see how that goes.

The ball is in his court now.

There I go again.

It’s like I can’t even help it.

Once again I have several hours of overtime this week so I
am planning to take a long, leisurely, middle-of-the-daycation tomorrow.The last time I did that my car died, so fingers
crossed I don’t have a repeat of that little incident.

Speaking of my car, the other day I mentioned to Matt that I
had another concern about Old Blue.I
told him that while I didn’t notice anything different mechanically or
performance-wise, heard no strange sounds, and didn’t see any leaks, I was
worried because I just felt like my foot was working harder than it normally
does when I drive.

I asked him if he could take a look-see, but I imagine it’s challenging
to diagnose a car issue when the only complaint is a tired foot.

Matt was silent for a long time and then very carefully said, “Well...I can look at it for you... but do you think it’s possible that you’re still just
a little freaked out by the battery dying last week?”

It turns out that I THINK THAT IS VERY POSSIBLE AND QUITE
LIKELY THE EXPLANATION.WELCOME TO MY
BRAIN.